


Taste of Rain

by theskywasblue



Series: Building Blocks [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-20
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rain doesn't wash away everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste of Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sinestrated](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Sinestrated).



Iruka raised his head and looked once, carefully but not too obviously, around the classroom, surveying a sea of heads bowed diligently over test papers, hearing only breathing and the sounds of pencils scratching paper punctuated by the occasional cough.

No signs of anyone trying to cheat – at least no overt signs – and any signs of cheating that he couldn't catch deserved to go unpunished.

Inevitably, his eyes were drawn towards the open window, and he could barely repress the sigh of disappointment that rose in the back of his throat. The day had started off so promising, bright, sunny and warm, just the way spring should be, but the storm had blown in just after lunch, thick, dark clouds blacking out the sun and a steady curtain of rain had fallen since then, soaking everything.

Iruka hated the rain. His most powerful memory of it was in the days after the Kyuubi attack when the dark clouds of smoke hanging over the village had spattered everything with sour water that tasted of blood and burning flesh.

He certainly wasn't looking forward to the walk home, and even less so to the empty apartment that awaited him.

Well, there was no help for that. Kakashi had missions and that was just the way things worked.

Iruka leaned on the desk on his elbows and wondered if maybe he could borrow an umbrella from one of the other teachers.

***

Rain was the reason that Kakashi always hated stalk and capture missions. It was even worse in the deepest part of Grass country, where there were no trees to offer decent shelter, just scrub and short, twiggy-looking things that barely classified as bushes in Kakashi's mind. It was underneath one of these bushes that he crouched, past his ankles in mud, trying to stay dry.

It was a losing battle. If not for his ANBU mask, the water would have been running down into his eyes. He was certain that even a Hyuuga would have had trouble seeing through the thick, ceaseless curtain of rain. Everything was blue and grey, smelling of wet earth. Kakashi was frozen and soaked right through to the skin. There was only so much his supposedly water-resistant ANBU gear could take. Virtual submersion in water was not included on that list.

The inclement weather meant that his target had been holed up in a backwater brothel that was attempting (ineffectively) to pass as a farmhouse for the better part of the last half day; and if Kakashi had not been specifically ordered not to engage the enemy except for capture, he would have been right there along with him. To get out of the rain, of course, not to sample the wares – dubious as they no doubt were in such a remote location – no, Kakashi was no longer a man who partook in sampling; he had everything he could want waiting for him back home.

Although right at that moment, what he wanted was to be warm and dry more than anything else.

_I'm at home_, he told himself, trying to keep his mind awake and fight off the icy languor that was crawling over him, _in a warm bed, drinking tea and reading Icha Icha. And Iruka's there too…_

It wasn't working. He was still cold and wet, and now to top it all off he was almost unbearably homesick.

His life had been so much easier when he had no one to come home to. It had been lonelier, of course, and not nearly as fun – but easier.

***

The only umbrella that Iruka had been able to find when he set out for home that evening was in the academy lost and found; and of course, it had a hole in it. He spent several minutes standing outside trying to figure out how he might be able to position it so that the water wouldn't fall through the hole on him, but it was a rather large hole and right near the center of the umbrella, which made the effort thoroughly useless.

In the end, he hurried home through the rain without the umbrella, ducking under awnings for shelter when he could at first, before finally surrendering to the inevitable and allowing himself to be soaked.

Once safely inside his apartment he shucked his sopping clothing in the doorway rather than tracking water all across the floor, and darted naked into the bathroom to towel off, rubbing his skin with extra vigour to banish the goose-bumps. Then, dressed in his warmest and most comfortable pair of sweats, he gathered up his soaked clothes and hung them from the curtain rod in the bathroom to dry. After that he made tea and sat cross-legged on the bed grading papers until he felt hungry enough to make some dinner.

Even as Iruka went to bed that night, showered and filled with warm food, curled under thick blankets, he could still feel the chill of dampness in his bones, and he wondered if it was raining wherever Kakashi was as well.

***

The one good thing about the rain, Kakashi decided, was that it washed the blood away. There was nothing worse than walking around for hours in clothes that stank of someone else's death.

He really hadn't wanted to kill the guy, but the orders had been to bring him in no matter what – or more accurately bring in the object he was carrying – a tiny data disk, which happened to be concealed in the flesh just behind his collarbone.

Kakashi dipped his hands into a brackish puddle, scrubbing the gore off as he watched the body burn with smokeless, water-proof chakra tags. In a matter of moments there would be nothing left but ashes, no trace of the traitorous ninja who had conspired to sell Konoha's secrets to Orochimaru.

It had been a very long and very rainy three days, but when the rain had finally washed his skin clean enough – or at least clean enough that no one would ever have to know what he had done, Kakashi headed home.

***  
"Close that window," Iruka griped, "You're letting the rain in."

"But I'm sick of smelling all this mouldy paper," Genma countered irritably, sticking his head out the window so that raindrops dappled his bandanna, "I need air man. I totally didn't fight my way up to Special Jonin for this."

"This would get done a lot faster if you just stopped complaining."

Genma wrinkled up his nose in dismay and shut the window with a bang before returning to the table, picking up another stack of papers and a rubber stamp. The two men scanned, stamped, initialled and shuffled paper for long moments in complete silence while the rain pattered softly against the window.

"Kakashi back yet?" Genma asked suddenly.

"Nope," Iruka replied blandly.

"Ah…that sucks."

Another moment of silence passed. The wind picked up, battering the office walls and for a moment drowning out all other sounds. Once it died down, Iruka asked, "How's Raidou?"

"Busy," Genma answered, "like pretty much everybody."

Iruka nodded, pushing a stack of papers off to one side of the table, "Well, this bunch has to go down to the guards at the gate."

Iruka and Genma looked at one another for a very long moment, each man sizing the other up.

Finally Genma said, with a thoroughly arrogant grin, "Rank."

Iruka's face dissolved into a dark scowl, "I hate you."

Genma's grin widened, "Hate all you want my friend, but you still have to go out in the rain."

"Hate you," Iruka gathered up the armload of papers and stalked towards the door, radiating as much intense displeasure as was humanly possible.

"Don't let them get wet!" Genma called after him as Iruka stomped out into the hall.

"Hate!" Iruka shouted back.

***

Iruka took the fastest route through the village to the main gate that he could think of, papers tucked under one arm, vest held up over his head as an ineffectual shield against the rain; of course, this meant cutting through the training field near the monument, which was little more than a sea of mud from all the rain.

He handed the slightly soggy papers over to Kotetsu and Izumo at the gate, giving the two warm and dry Chunin the dirtiest look imaginable before turning back. He was so irritated by the whole thing that he didn't even bother taking a different route back to the office – he simply tromped back through the muddy field, grumbling to himself, envisioning all the ways he was going to make Genma equally miserable and trying to ignore the ache that was rising in his arms from holding them awkwardly over his head for so long.

He was so distracted that it wasn't until he paused in the middle of the field to wipe the water out of his eyes and looked to see how much farther he had yet to go, that he saw the ANBU.

Instinctively, he froze, like a rabbit caught in the wolf's eye, not daring to make a single move that might be considered threatening, because he knew that ANBU members were not the most stable individuals even on the best of days.

The ANBU stood perfectly still, perfectly relaxed, watching him.

"P-pardon me ANBU-san," Iruka managed when he had regained his voice, realizing what a fool he must seem with his vest stretched out over his head, tromping through the mud like a bad-tempered child, "sorry to disturb you."

He took one step sideways, and with his head down, shoulders hunched to show that he was not a threat, he moved to walk past the ANBU, only to have his wrist caught in a firm grip, halting him.

"Ah!" Iruka looked up, startled, at the masked face mere inches from his own. It was from this new vantage point that he saw a single blue eye staring intently at him, and the silver hair plastered to the ANBU's skull with rainwater.

"You aren't even going to say 'hello'?"

Iruka's heart skipped a beat, "Ka-Kakashi?"

The Jonin released his grip on Iruka's wrist, dropping his hand.

"I didn't recognize you with that mask," Iruka explained quickly, "I've never seen you looking so – so…"

Iruka's heart was still shivering behind his ribs, his mouth was dry and there was water pouring down his face until he could barely see. He felt dizzy with the sight of Kakashi, dark and powerful and, frankly, terrifying – but also stunningly beautiful in a way Iruka could never have imagined even in his wildest, most fantastic dreams. It was like being face to face with a wild animal, overwhelmed by its beauty and wanting to reach out to touch it, but knowing that it almost certainly would bite.

***

"Iruka?" Kakashi reached out towards the younger man, but stopped short. He didn't understand what the look on the Chunin's face meant, the strange mixture of awe, fear and desire. He hadn't expected to find Iruka out in the middle of the training field in the rain, hadn't ever expected Iruka to have to see him like this, wearing his killer's mask. He knew that he should run, disappear, talk to Iruka again later when he was back to being human – but he had been missing Iruka for three long, cold days, and he simply couldn't turn away.

His life had been so much simpler when he hadn't had to care for what others thought of him.

"Iruka?"

The tanned man blinked, rubbed at his eyes with the back of one hand to get rid of rainwater, or perhaps to convince himself that he wasn't seeing things, "I'm glad – I'm glad you're back Kakashi…really glad."

Kakashi felt a tiny bubble of relief begin to form in his chest. The fear was still there in Iruka's eyes, but it was only a shadow behind the delight and desire. Iruka stepped forward, touched Kakashi's arm, then his mask, looking directly into Kakashi's eyes all the while. It was there, Kakashi realized, that Iruka could see the truth of who he was. He could see what was hidden behind the mask. In that moment it didn't matter to Iruka that Kakashi was a killer; it probably wouldn't have even mattered if the rain hadn't been there to wash the blood off his hands.

Iruka leaned forward and brushed his lips, gently, hesitantly, against the surface of Kakashi's mask, his vest holding back the rain for the briefest of instants before he whispered "See you later" and darted away across the training field.

***

"You know," Genma said as Iruka came back into the office, dripping wet, "I didn't expect you to actually go and do it. It was just a joke."

"Oh…" Iruka half-laughed, breathless and grinning from ear to ear as he dropped into his chair. Every time he opened his mouth to take a breath it felt like he would burst out laughing, he couldn't seem to slow the wild racing of his heart, his skin shivered all over and the taste of rainwater was in his mouth – cool and clean and perfect this time, not tasting of blood or smoke at all, only something pure, "That's alright Genma…I don't mind the rain at all."

-End-


End file.
